Talking About Death, Part 2
March 30th, 2009
So, if you’re having a really slow day at work and you just got done reading Part 1 of this little blogathon and you’re still around, here is Part 2.
Siena had started crying over a reference to dying in the song “Dixie” at the end of Little House on the Prairie. I mean, crying. Sobbing. And then she told me she didn’t want to hear the song lyric about dying because she doesn’t want to die. And she knows she is going to die one day and she doesn’t want to. She doesn’t want to go in the ground.
It was at this point that my eyes threatened to overflow with tears.
She went on, “I don’t want you and Daddy and Elliot to die. And what if you and Daddy die while Elliot and I are still little and we have to get new parents?”
Before I could swallow the giant lump in my throat and formulate some sort of response, she kept going:
“And Grandma is really old. And Grandpa and the other Grandma and Grandpa. They’re going to die soon because they’re old and I don’t want them to die because I love them.”
[Apologies here to my parents and parents-in-law. It's not like Matt and I regularly discuss your old age or decrepitude in front of the kids or anything. We think you are all very young and healthy and we look forward to many years of asking you to babysit, which we know takes energy -- we wouldn't ask you if we thought you were too "old."]
The conversation continued in this vein for some time. I choked back my own tears and did my best to reassure Siena, without lying to her, that all her loved ones would be around for quite some time and that she herself had many years of playing princess (and reading more age-appropriate bedtime stories?) before she needed to reflect on her own mortality.
But when I had finally closed her door, I walked upstairs to where Matt was watching videos on Comedy Central and burst into tears as I relayed the conversation to him.
…..
A few days later, I came across this post in the NY Times Motherlode blog. And I thought about this reluctance to discuss hard subjects with our kids, as I had just experienced so vividly. Matt and I have always taken the approach that it’s best to be open and honest about everything that comes up. (At the same time, it’s not like we’ve gone looking for opportunities to introduce topics such as death or where babies come from — but we’ve agreed not to shy away from honest answers if our kids ask the questions.)
So, while I wanted to lie to her (”You’re not going to die! And Daddy and I will never die! We’ll always be here for you!”), I didn’t.
I told her that everyone dies, but most people live for a long time first and get to do many great and exciting things. I told her that when I think about dying, I remind myself of all the neat things I get to do first. Of all the wonderful people we have in our lives, friends and family we get to spend time with.
I talked about my Grandpa Charles, whose funeral she remembers attending, and Matt’s Grandpa Butch, who passed away when she was Elliot’s age. I told her that, yes, it was very sad and we miss them very much. But they were old, much older than her grandparents are now. They had seen wars and careers and children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. They had traveled. They had had great adventures. And we still tell stories about them, so they are still with us in our memories. And when someone dies, that’s what you do — you keep them with you in your memory, in your heart.
Siena seemed somewhat reassured by all this (or maybe just too tired to keep talking). But I came away full of doubts and second-guessing. Maybe I should have just gone for easy reassurance, for now, and saved all the honesty for when she’s old enough to handle it better? (When is old enough to handle it better? I don’t want to die! I don’t want my loved ones to die! Agh! Where’s the chocolate?)
Maybe being matter-of-fact is not the best way to handle these hard topics with my sensitive daughter. But she’s perceptive, too — maybe if I hid too much she would see that I was being evasive and then the whole thing would be even more stressful for her. I don’t know.
All I know is, I went with my gut, which has been responsible for pretty much every other parenting decision I’ve made so far, from deciding to get pregnant in the first place to making waaay too many Wall-e cupcakes for Elliot’s second birthday. And while some decisions have been better (having the kids) than others (going up a pants size in a week), it feels better to me to be as honest-yet-reassuring as possible rather than hiding grandma’s china out of sight and praying my kids never think to ask where my grandmas are.
I guess my question to anyone still reading, if you can prop your eyelids open long enough to type a response, is what do you think when it comes to talking about death with kids? And seriously, where’s the chocolate beer?
March 30th, 2009 at 7:07 pm
I say stop reading those books– when I got scarlet fever in 4th grade, I was POSITIVE I was going to go blind like Mary and was terrified (I even punched the doctor during the exam, although some of that has to do with me, but Little House didn’t help)
March 30th, 2009 at 7:11 pm
That’s true — I totally remember when you had scarlet fever, Heather, and you remain the only person I know of who’s actually had it. I can’t really see Mary Ingalls punching a doctor, but you — definitely. I need to get some new bedtime stories, STAT.
March 31st, 2009 at 8:27 am
Suggestion– I LOVED Ramona Quimby (spelling?). We read a chapter each day in Kindergarden….
March 31st, 2009 at 10:08 am
As a VERY old person
, I’d just like to throw my 2 cents’ worth in–it doesn’t always seem to matter what parents do, kids often pick up on the idea of death around Siena’s age. Naturally, it causes a lot of anxiety. One preschooler I knew once had to come home from a friend’s house because he was so upset. The friend’s dad had offered him milk with his lunch and told him it would “help him grow up big and strong”–which, we learned later, a 4-year-old’s logic somehow translated into “and then you’ll die.” From my own experience, the thing I found most comforting was to see my parents deal with the hard issues of life courageously–so I think it’s definitely a case where acknowledging feelings and modeling acceptance and a positive outlook really do build a child’s coping skills. I think you’re doing a great job!
March 31st, 2009 at 2:53 pm
This is a belated comment – in response to your post about Elliott’s second birthday – and the most recent podcast. I meant to tell you that I really appreciate your honesty about parenthood – esp. since I am not a parent yet. It helps me keep perspective about the whole thing – and not wonder off into “if only…” thoughts. It’s good to recognize there are good and bad parts to parenthood and non-parenthood (I can’t think of a good word for that). It’s good to keep a balanced view.
March 31st, 2009 at 7:05 pm
Hey Laura – I think you and Matt are doing a great job! I also read the story in Motherlode, and thought it was really odd to hide your grandmothers china – to try to hide death. You cant hide it – and I think kids sense if you are trying to be evasive.
BTW – I loved Laura Ingalls – but I remember reading them in first grade and up. Would she be too young for Anne of green gables? I have the whole set if you need to borrow one. (dont we share that same obsession?)
March 31st, 2009 at 7:05 pm
Florie — awesome suggestion. I loved those, too.
Mom — thanks for the vote of confidence. And I don’t think you’re old at all.
Amy — glad I can offer a “grass is not always greener; grass sometimes has pee on it (as does the carpet)” type of perspective. (I am trying to be funny, but I really appreciate your comment.)
March 31st, 2009 at 7:16 pm
Oh, and other Amy — I loved those books too! Was planning to wait till she was older to pull them out, but maybe I’ll just start reading things in advance to get of sense of whether she is ready. In my mind, the Little House books were these warm, loving family stories perfect for a 4-yr-old — must have forgotten all the near-death experiences or maybe my parents did some of the same “editing” as they read that I’ve been doing!
March 31st, 2009 at 7:22 pm
I think you are doing all the right things, but I strongly suspect your daughter will probably qualify for the “gifted” label at some point because she does have a long attention span and command of the language to be read books written for an older audience and obviously enjoy them. Have you thought much about this? I know that parenting a gifted child can certainly present challenges.
April 2nd, 2009 at 5:43 pm
Hey – again, putting 2 and 2 together and must run over to Heather’s blog to say hello to a long lost friend. I think I remember her having scarlet fever and I also thought she was going to go blind, but perhaps that’s because she told me that. Who knows?!?
Ok, back to the death topic. My 5 year old nephew has been obsessed with death/killing for the last couple years. Like totally obsessed. I personally think it stems from playing video games. When he slept over recently, we used an old Smurfs sheet for his bed. He immediately found the “bad guy”, Gargamel, and asked if he was going to kill all the Smurfs. He has dreams about dying and killing.
Perhaps it is a good thing that she has a healthy understanding of death shown through the books you’re reading rather than an extreme view of death portrayed through video games and other media. Just a thought.
April 5th, 2009 at 8:13 pm
I think your response was perfect Especially being put on the spot. Plus wouldn’t you rather talk to her about death first from a book like Laura Ingalls Wilder rather than from a real life situation? I would be more worried if she had no reaction at all to it:)
May 15th, 2009 at 1:52 pm
I think you are right on, Laura. Buddy is 11 and has been to as many funerals as I have in my entire life…we have just made them a part of life for the kids. Death and dying is sad, but it is also a time to celebrate that persons life and tell stories which keeps that person alive in your memories. My 4 year old thinks when you die you go in the hearts of the people who love you…a little off, but it works for her. She came up with that on her own last year when my grandma died and it has served us well. When she asks questions we answer til she is satisfied.